Page 81 of Just the Tipsy
“I need to ride you,” I say, coming off his lap and pushing his pants and boxers all the way down.
I take whatever words he was about to say when I slide down onto his cock to the hilt. The fullness still rocks me just as much as it did the first time, like he’s reaching every part of me from the inside.
“Fuck.” He lets his head fall back, thumping against the wall. “So perfect.”
I roll my hips, taking time to find a rhythm that hits my G-spot just right. He holds me close, his hands on my hips and his body pressed to mine. Being chest to chest, his breathing in my ear and my breathing in his, feels so perfectly intimate. We’re in rhythm and I never want to fall out of sync.
He grips my hips and starts thrusting upward, our bodies making enough sound that I hope the music playing can drown it out. I reach down and rub my clit, building up higher and higher. I rest my forehead against his, feeling him tense the way he does before he comes.
I fall over the edge, losing myself in the moment. He murmurs that he’s close and I slide off of him, taking his cock into my mouth. He comes moments later, deep into my throat, and lets out a choked groan.
He slumps in the seat for a moment before helping me up to my feet. I help him up too, a few moments later. His cheeks are flushed and he has a smile in his eyes. My heart is pounding a thousand beats per minute, and the rush of feelings is almost too much for me to take.
Both of us jump when two voices come down the hall, having what’s either an argument or a spirited conversation. Waylon peers out the door before pushing it all the way open. Jada and Ash of all people are walking down the hall, passing us while Jada wildly gesticulates.
They round the corner without seeing us, leaving us alone again.
“I wonder what they’re talking about,” I say.
“Don’t know.” Waylon shrugs. “Knowing both of them, they’re probably trying to one-up each other in one way or another.”
We wander down the hall in the opposite direction, toward a door to outside. Thankfully once we get out there, we have some level of privacy. I don’t know if it’s part of the post-sex high or how close we just felt, but I’m feeling the burst of courage I’ve been needing.
“Do you ever think about us becoming something more?” I ask.
My words leave my mouth right along with the some of the courage I had built up, especially when I feel him shift next to me.
“Like a real relationship?” Waylon asks. His tone is depleting the last of my courage reserves.
“Yeah. I mean…” I swallow. My mouth is suddenly bone dry. “I was just trying to figure out whether I should stay in Jepsen or not.”
“Don’t stay here for me, Bianca. You have bigger things waiting for you,” he says, pushing off the wall. “I don’t know if starting a relationship is something we should do.”
My chest tightens, but I keep my composure. “But why? I know there’s something here that’s worth giving a shot.”
Waylon doesn’t speak for the longest time, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. If I look at him, I’ll crack, and if I crack, I’ll fall apart completely.
“I just can’t right now,” he says softly. “It’s just safer if we end it now.”
“Safer?” I blink, everything inside of me turning to a slow-burning irritation. “Safer?Not better because you don’t feel the same way?”
“No, I…”
I finally look at him as he runs his fingers through his hair. There’s a war going on in his head, clearly, but to me, it shouldn’t be that hard of a decision. We both know there’s something between us, and flat out denying it for whatever reason is ridiculous. There’s no ‘yes, let’s take it slow’, or anything like that.
The realization is like a knife to the chest. He’d rather choose his fear over me.
I must not be as important to him as I thought.
“Safer for you, maybe. And your feelings,” I continue, my voice wavering. “Even though I thought we had something. And I thought you felt something too based on what we just did. But I guess I was wrong.”
“Bianca, this was never a real relationship. We fooled my mom, and now we can part ways as friends,” he says, his tone almost anxious. “We explicitly said that early on.”
We stop at the intersection of two hallways and come face-to-face with Delia. Her eyes are wide.
She definitely heard him. That was never part of the plan.
“Go handle things with your mom,” I say. “I already know exactly how you feel.”
